


"Predators of Mig Alley"

by Treerat



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Air combat, F-86 Sabre, F/M, Korean War, MIG-15, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 10:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treerat/pseuds/Treerat
Summary: In the hostile sky of Korea during the "police action" there, a rabbit flys among all of the other predators who prowl those airways.





	"Predators of Mig Alley"

Predators of Mig Alley

Note: “A lot of mammals fly. Some like to fly, others love to fly. And, for a few, they have to fly!”

The end of runway crew watched as the nose gear of one of the F-86s on the runway turns and the engine powers up just a little and the swept winged fighter rolls onto the adjacent taxiway. The abort was understandable; even with the combination of ear plugs and muffs, the ground crew knew that its engine sounded wrong during the test power up. Seconds later, the Sabre partnered to the first also turned and rolled onto the same taxiway. This left two F-86s ready on the runway.

“Lost their finger four,” commented a squirrel ground crew man. “Think they’ll go anyway?”

The prong horned antelope buck looked sideways at the bushy tailed rodent.

“You haven’t been here long, have you?” he yelled over the engine noise.

Just as he finished hollering, the engines of both jets revved up. Then, the lead plane’s pilot released the brakes and the Sabre was on its takeoff roll. A second later, the wingman did the same and chased after their lead. The pair of aircraft uses up some 2000 feet of runway and lift off. As soon as they are safely airborne, hands jack gear levers into the “UP” position and the landing gears fold up into wings and lower nose fuselages. The only things left marring their otherwise clean shapes are a pair of 260-gallon external fuel tanks that hang under their wings.

“That answer your question?” said the buck.

Lead, call sign “Jules”, held that position due to a coin toss. Every time they and their wing, call sign “Bones”, flew together they had someone toss a coin. Winner chose the position, lead or wing, they would fly. Today, Bones won the toss and took the guard position. That was a surprise as he usually chose to take lead.

“Can’t say why,” he said. “But I have the sensation that today is going to be your day and for that you have to be in lead.”

 

‘Jules’, real name Judith L. Hopps, was in Korea due to a mix of new regulations, determination, training in a new tech, and the result of a military SNAFU of major proportions. Feeling somewhat embarrassed that, during the Great War of 1939-1945, that the Nazzis, the Ittalyans, the Rus (USSR in another universe), and even the Brits, early in the War, had allowed females to fly and fight in air combat actions during that war. After the various Axes pact members surrendered, it was felt in the States that at least a trial recruiting and training program should be put in place to assuage a vocal section of the population plus some members of Congress.

“The ones who put in for the program will either make it or they won’t!” stated the top air force general. “As to what will actually happens vs. what is expected…well, we’ll see.”

The rest of the general’s staff still thought it was nuts but they didn’t want to get the cape buffalo’s ire directed their way. Doing so was never good for any subordinate’s nerves or career.

The determination part came in when not only was she female but a bunny as well. The aim…expectations of the program was that the female mammals joining it would be almost exclusively preds, with any prey types being from larger species. To have a small prey fem, she barely got above the minimum height requirement, put in for the program was not foreseen. She passed every physical and academic test they threw at her and Judy ended up in the Air Academy. Five years’ grind and she had her aeronautics engineering degree done and over 1100 hours of flight time in the trainers. Then, the one part of the new initiative kicked in, the one that based the pilot’s selection by pure merit, their assignment.

“Hopps!”

“Yes sir!”

Nellis, AFB…”

She waited for the other paw shoe to drop.

“…F-86s!”

Even with the ceiling 14 some feet high, there were those there that swore that Judy got close to touching it in her leap of elation!

The familiarization training went well and Judy soloed in the minimum amount of time. From there she was assigned to a test and development squadron on Nellis AFB. The bunny was a little unsure about the assignment but when she found out that they were expected to train for air combat as well as try out new systems and techniques Judy felt better about things. Then, the “police action” in Korea kicked off. After halting the North Korean advance at the Pusan perimeter, the Allied forces began pushing back and reclaiming territory. Having near complete control of the air space over the peninsula, B-29s, and other prop driven bombing aircraft, blasted supply lines and troop concentrations to weaken the opposition forces. The allied forces gained more and more ground and it looked like they would be able to go all the way to the Yalu when a new factor entered the fight.

The appearance of the Mig 15s in Korea was a rude shock. No one had any idea that the Rus had such an advanced jet fighter in their inventory. The B-29s took a beating at the cannon fire of these stubby looking jet fighters while the F-80 Shooting Stars and F-84 Thunderstreaks were barely holding the line. The only fighter in the inventory that got close to matching the Mig’s performance was the F-86. So, 26 of them were flown to the West coast where their wings and tail surfaces were removed. Then, they were packed up into large shipping containers to be loaded onto Navy transport ships. From there, the trip to Korea took 18 days. When the jets were uncrated it was discovered that due to the fact that those shipping containers were not sealed up against the salt air of the sea that many parts of the planes were corroded, some very badly. By cleaning the least corroded parts and stealing good parts off of some to replace the bad ones on others they were able to get 11 Sabres into flying condition. The Air Force and Navy each blamed the other for the problem; AF saying that Navy knew of this and should have sealed the crates. In turn, the Navy said they had presumed that the Air Force had prepped the planes with some kind of protective coating before packing them up and, if not, that they should have told the Navy of that in the first place. Things would have to be sorted out later. Those 11 planes were being worked to their limits and more were needed to spell them but there was still the problem of getting by the obstacle of F-86s not having the range, even with drop tanks, to reach the Havvian and other ‘stepping stone’ islands to get to Korea. Then, someone brought up the research on air refueling going on at Nellis, AFB.

“There are five C-74s modified as refueling aircraft and they have a number of external tanks that are already modified with probes. And, they just completed a run with four aircraft from Nellis to the east coast and back a week and a half ago. There were some problems during the course but not enough to prevent the Sabres from completing their circuit to the east coast and back. With four refueling planes, tankers, we could fly a reinforced section of F-86s from San Diego to Korea with six, maybe seven, aerial retankings.”

As there was nothing else on the ‘table’, and with a concerned public, and Congress, looking on it was decided to go ahead. However, in order to make things look less urgent, a statement would be released that informed the public that the mission was to test the new tech under real world conditions. The planes and crews would hop from island base to base and, if things went well, they would end their run in Okinawa

When higher command wanted to put just one refueling tank to one plane so as to fly at least 16 F-86s over the Pacific, the R & D unit commander put his foot down, hard!

“That is not going to happen!” the lion col, Stoner, stated categorically. “This system is still in development and has its share of failures. One thing that is not needed is for one or more to fail and the pilot not have enough fuel to get back to the west coast. Each plane has to have two probe tanks loaded on so that should one breakdown there is the other for backup.”

He saw the mix of unhappy to mulish expressions.

“Gentlemen, you already have one fiasco on your paws,” he said. “Are you sure you want to court a second, possibly, fatal one almost right afterwards?”

They weren’t happy but the logic of his statement was all too evident. So, eight Sabres would be fitted with two probe tanks each. The next surprise came when upper command insisted that the unit’s most experienced pilots be the ones to ferry the planes across.

“Oh, you mean all of the ones I have?” said the col with a raised eye ridge.

He explained, that since they were a rather small unit, there were ten pilots who had any real practice with air refueling.

“And it takes at least a month of training, at several flights a week, to get in the experience to be competent,” he said.

The need to get some Sabres to Korea quickly did not leave Command with any real choice.

Most of the unit would be going on the trip with their tools, equipment, and any and all spares they had on hand. They did complete the modification of another pair of tanks and Judy tested them on a few flights to iron out any problems. The additional tanks meant that a ninth plane could be ferried over and this did take up the last pilot in the unit. Four days of packing and loading up a couple of transports. Then check flights done for both fighters and the tankers and transports. That the press was, from a distance, thankfully, looking over their shoulders did little to help things. Then, the day came; the transports and two of the tankers took off first with the other tankers following a couple of hours later. About an hour and a half after that, the nine F-86s lifted off the runways, formed up, and pointed their noses west. Following the beacons to the first pair of tankers, they fueled up some 800 miles off the coast. The fighters flew on to meet the second set of tankers and refueled again. Several problems cropped up during these events, confirming Col. Stoner’s wisdom in insisting that the planes have two tanks that could accept fuel. There were quite a few sighs of relief when all the planes landed at Hickmam Field at Oahu. After a day of rest, plus repair work, the next leg to Midway and then Wake Island was done. The next day they flew to Guam. A couple of hours from the island, one of the Sabres developed an engine problem. Fortunately, it was a minor one that didn’t worsen over the remainder of the flight. They pulled the engine and swapped in the one spare they had brought with them on one of the transports. There was a quick debate on whether they should stick to the schedule and go with just eight planes or wait the two days to do the change out and subsequent check flights. It was decided that it would be better if all the F-86s arrived at the destination, so they waited. This gave all the aircrews, pilots, and most of the maintenance mammals time to catch up on rest and do a quick tour of the island, which included some hours at the beaches where they swam and sunned themselves. And a couple of the Sabres flew an air demonstration for the folks on Guam, as well. The flight to Okinawa and then on into their airfield in Korea was boringly uneventful. There were the obligatory poses for the press mammals then the tanks were down loaded, purged of any remaining fuel, then prepped for loading onto the transports for the return flight to the States. Then, out of the blue, it was decided that one of the tankers, three sets of tanks, and some of the techs would stay to test the equipment in the Korean environment plus train pilots in air refueling. For both programs it was decided that the most experienced pilot of the T & E (test and evaluation) unit would stay and that pilot was Judy. Back at Nellis, Col Stoner was pleased to see a surge in funding for the refueling project and had even received authorization, and funding, to modify some of his fighter aircraft so they could air refuel directly instead of through their external tanks. Three more C-74s were being transferred to his unit to be refitted as tankers plus additional personnel needed to handle the influx of new aircraft and projects. While not happy about losing his best pilot for what might be several months, he knew she wanted to get close to and into the fight there and wished her well.

“Make the most of it,” Stoner messaged her. “You might not get another chance.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hopps!”

“Yes, sir!” Judy said, looking up from her paperwork to the wing commander.

“Get prepped for flight. Couple of pilots are down sick and I need you to fly wing on a training and familiarization patrol.”

“Yes sir!” she said as she got up.

 

“’Training and familiarization flight’. We’re 20 some miles behind the line of battle with orders not to go further north unless something comes up,” Judy thought as she scanned about the sky with her eyes.

This was her first time out in the war zone and she’d hoped to be at least a hundred or so miles north of the battleline to have at least a little chance of a fight.

“Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. With all the radar coverage here the Migs aren’t likely to get any ways near here, even if they could get this far south,” she thought, mildly frustrated. 

About halfway through their patrol they got a call from a Shooting Star flight saying they had spotted something close to the ground at a certain map segment and gave the presumed course heading. The F-80s were unable to check it out due to being short of fuel. The flight leader changed course to head for the area.

“Too far for Migs,” Judy thought. “Ground attack aircraft, maybe? The position is close to the front line and the course heading takes them to a section of the front defended by the South Koreans.”

Such aircraft stayed close to the ground in order to avoid radar detection.

“Go in, drop your munitions, maybe one or two strafing runs and then haul tail before any fighter help can show up,” she figured to herself.

The flight dropped to 6,000 feet and they split into two elements a few miles apart in order to cover more area.

“Planes, two o’clock low. They look like IL-10s, two pairs! One set trailing the other by about a mile!” her lead called out.

“We’ll take the trailing pair,” flight lead called. “You get the lead pair!”

Locked right and back from her lead, Judy followed him down towards their targets.

“Watch out for the rear gunner,” flight lead warned. “That 20mm is bad news if he manages to get a bead on you.”

They would have preferred to go below the ILs and hit them from underneath in order to avoid that gunner but, being this low to the ground, that was not an option. Lead held to the dive while powering back on the throttle. He was coming down and a bit to the left of his chosen prey. At the last second, the IL-10 pilot threw the plane into a hard right turn and they had to compensate by turning also. In the middle of the turn, lead fired and in a second his fire chewed into the prop plane’s left wing root and the cockpit. The Illusan tumbled and cartwheeled into the ground, shattering and scattering in a fiery trail almost a quarter of a mile long. After pulling up, they sighted the second IL and closed into firing position.

“Damn! My guns jammed! Jules, take him!”

The element lead dropped back to wing position as Judy turned to avoid a stream of 20mm fire coming from the rearward pointing gun. She made another turn to come out level and right of the attack plane. They were barely a mile from the South Koreans and had to do this fast. Her nose ranging radar caught the plane and the sighting pipper moved to compensate for the distance. It was a full deflection, at right angle, shot so Judy allowed for three plane lengths of lead, squeezed the trigger, and felt her fighter tremble as the six M3 machineguns fired. The bullet stream crossed the plane’s path and then the Illusyan flew right through it. Smoke belched from the engine and the plane’s windscreen and canopy broke into thousands of pieces as the .50 cal slugs hammered through them. The stricken plane nosed down and plowed into the ground barely a quarter of a mile from its intended target area.

“Close but no celery stick!” Judy thought as she pulled up to look for more targets.

Ahead and to the left she spotted someone on fire and then saw the aircraft smash into the ground.

“That’s all of them,” flight lead called. “Form up and let’s head for home.”

 

As she approached her parking spot on the hard stand, Judy rolled back the canopy and broke loose the seat restraints that helped to keep her in place during aerial maneuvering. The crew chief guided the fighter around into its parking position and he saw the powder residue around the gun ports. Once the plane was in position and the chocks set in place, he looked up to the cockpit and Judy held up one hand with one finger extended. The chief nodded, gave the cut signal, and Judy shut down the engine. As he approached the aircraft, the bunny got out of the cockpit and stood on the wing.

“What did you get?” the tiger asked.

“An IL-10, full weapons load and about 200 feet off the deck. Got him in the engine and…”

Then, it hit her! The memory of the shattering windscreen and canopy as the 750 grain AP (armor piercing) slugs blasted through both. Someone was in that cockpit; she had killed not just the plane but the mammal piloting it…and the back seat gunner! Judy’s legs felt weak all of a sudden. In fact, all of her body felt that way. Then her legs started shaking and in no time so was the rest of her body. A roiling feeling in her gut had her on the edge of throwing up. After an indeterminate amount of time, she became aware of her surroundings once more. She found herself sitting, her legs stretched out in front of her, on the wing with her back up against the fuselage of her plane. Looking to her left, Judy saw the crew chief standing there, gazing at her.

“Sorry, chief,” she apologized.

“Don’t be, Capt. Anyone who doesn’t have the shakes, or worse, after their first kill is made of stone or a psychopath. And I wouldn’t want to work for either,” replied the striped male.

After debriefing, a shower, and a change of clothes, Judy sat down at her small desk, opened up her journal, and ruthlessly recorded the events of the day within. A couple of times she had to pause for a moment or two for her hand to stop trembling.


End file.
